


Outings

by Dolevalan



Category: Artemis Fowl - Eoin Colfer, Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell - Susanna Clarke
Genre: Crossover, Gen, repost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-12
Updated: 2009-05-12
Packaged: 2018-04-04 06:20:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4128094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dolevalan/pseuds/Dolevalan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Doodah Day realizes there are worse things than the police to worry about among the Mudmen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Outings

Doodah Day was humming to himself as he strolled through the market at Smithfield. What the Mudmen wouldn't think of next. He gave the foot of the statue meant to represent Dublin a fond little pat, grinning cheekily from under the cap hiding his fairy features from the casual observer. There weren't many, though; most Londoners concentrated on their own business, not the affairs of poorly dressed children. Well, except the stall keepers; there were enough Mudboys nicking food that they were on the lookout for it.

Of course, the Mudchildren didn't have magic, which meant Doodah was at a distinct advantage. And fish were for the having like berries off a berry bush. He had a right to hum.

Eventually, he noticed he was being followed. He groaned a little, internally of course. Nosy fairy police, he had no doubt. He shifted, making sure the fish he'd collected so far were firmly hooked inside his coat if he had to run.

When he glanced back casually, however, he was amazed that no one else was staring. The gentleman was tall, much taller than any fairy Doodah had ever seen, but he certainly wasn't a Mudman. His skin was pale, making his piercing blue eyes stand out. He was dressed impeccably, in the modern fashion, though his vest was a startling emerald green, much brighter than any other color in the marketplace. He was smiling, but it was a dour, not-at-all-reassuring sort of smile. Doodah, for just a moment, wished it had been the police.

"Ah!" The gentleman had spotted him, and came over, for all the world as if Doodah was his dearest friend, with whom he was being reunited after a long absence. He tilted his hat, just slightly, though he didn't remove it; perhaps he feared his excessive amount of hair would prevent putting the hat back on easily. "My dear sir, my exceedingly dear sir. How are you, this fine day?"

Doodah's attempt to ignore him clearly had no effect, so he said in a thick, put on accent, "'oo, me gov? Cor, blimely, I'm notabody o'consequence, me." And he spit, for good measure. It seemed like a Mudman thing to do.

The gentleman laughed, a sound like shattered glass. "An excellent jest! Very amusing indeed. It has been too long since I enjoyed such a piece of frivolity." His voice was clipped, a bit formal, as if he hadn't been topside in a long while. Doodah was inching subtly away from him. He wasn't sure whether or not the giant fairy was crazy, but he hadn't spent centuries as a professional smuggler by finding out how crazy people were by personal experimentation. The gentleman, however, noticed and leaned down to put a hand on the pixie's shoulder.

"Do tell me, my good gentleman, whether any word has come down of a place called Lost-Hope, in the past...century or so?" The gentleman's eyes gleamed with a brilliance which did not spring from sanity.

Doodah shook his head a bit. "Never heard of it. But I'm not much of a one for geography," he said, dropping the clearly unconvincing accent.

The gentleman's grip grew tighter for just a moment. "No, of course not. Of course not. " He let Doodah go. "After all, everything does change, when one is gone for a few decades, don't you find?" He grinned, sharply.

"...righto, gov." Doodah took a step back, and saw it as a hopeful sign with the fairy didn't stop him.

"You know, it really is uncanny. You could almost pass for human," the gentleman remarked, almost absently. "Though you smell horrid. Like fish. Don't you have something for that?"

Doodah sensed that a glamor wouldn't be any use on this gentleman, so he just tipped his hat in a cursory manner and darted the other other way. He used his small size to try and put as many Mudpeople between the freakishly giant fairy and himself as possible.

Yes. He definitely would have preferred the police. It would be days before he shook the sense of being watched by bright, mad eyes.


End file.
